


Hogs

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 17:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: They visit the Shire and save some lives.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Lindir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Hogs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Elrond knows perfectly well that Lindir isn’t one for travel, and it’s quite clear that he only agreed to come because he can’t seem to bring himself to leave Elrond’s side. Elrond had promised the trip would be swift, and he would return soon, but Lindir had insisted he follow. Elrond allowed it, because he really would like for Lindir to see the world. There was a time when Lindir would shudder at the mere sight of dwarves, but now he’s somewhat befriended Bilbo, and Elrond thinks that if he meets just a few other people from outside their race, he might see the beauty in diversity.

That’s never more prevalent than in the Shire. They walk slowly along the well-worn paths that lead into Hobbiton, guiding their horses behind them, because the Shire is built for a lower viewpoint, and they’d miss too many details when mounted. Besides, Elrond could use the walk. He enjoys stretching his legs in a truly peaceful land. The grassy fields aren’t _quite_ as lovely as the realms of Elves, but there’s art in the differences, and Elrond appreciates that. He hopes that Lindir does too. 

They cross over a bridge, only two at a time, careful of their weight on structures that were built for smaller people. Then they leave the horses by the bank, and Erestor collects them, agreeing to stay and watch. There’s no place in the village for them—what few stables the Shire seems to have are built only for ponies. Fortunately, Elven horses do well enough in the wild, and Erestor assures him that no harm will come to them. Lindir uneasily pats his steed and follows Elrond back to the path. Three others journey on with them, albeit further back, caught up in their own awe. Lindir is the most awe-struck of them, but he sticks close to Elrond, matching Elrond’s every footstep. 

Eventually, the smials become denser, more hobbit-holes littering the quiet hills, and Lindir gapes at the round windows cut right of the earth. Children play amongst the well-kept gardens, occasionally pointing and gasping at the sight of elves. The older hobbits turn away, uninterested in all things _other_. Hopefully, when they reach Bag End, Bilbo’s nephew will be a different story. Then they pass through a busy marketplace, and Lindir gasps.

For the first time since setting food outside Imladris, he leaves Elrond’s side. He wanders over to a small crowd of baby pigs kept in a little pen. The old hobbit tending them looks up at Lindir, then grunts and looks pointedly away. The piglets oink noisily and flick their tails back and forth. A few of them trot over to Lindir, and when he bends down to get a proper look, the entire litter of four crowds around him.

He reaches tentatively out, then dares to touch one’s forehead. It squeals and turns its head up to him. Lindir startles, only to try again. He pets the piglet with a growing smile, his wary expression melting into one of pure delight. He even asks the old woman, “Would it be alright if I held one?”

She grunts and waves her hand dismissively. Lindir hesitantly draws the smallest piglet up into his arms. It nuzzles eagerly into his chest and tries to chew the long hair spilling over his shoulders. Lindir chuckles and brushes his hair away but spots a nearby mushroom, which he plucks up and feeds to the hungry piglet. It’s an incredibly sweet scene, one that melts Elrond’s heart every bit as much. 

He wanders over, and Lindir looks up, biting his bottom lip. He clearly doesn’t want to let the piglet go, but he does. He sets it back inside the pen and rises, brushing off his robes. 

He quietly asks, “What do they do with such magnificent creatures, my lord?”

Elrond doesn’t have the heart to answer truthfully. But he can’t lie either, so only remains silent. Lindir glances wistfully back at them and muses, “They would be such a lovely addition to our gardens...”

In truth, they would likely trample and eat everything in sight. But they would also grow into healthy, happy pigs in an environment of love. Looking down at the cluster of four tiny piglets, Elrond makes a foolish decision, based purely on his affection for his assistant. 

He fishes a few golden coins out of the purse hidden in the folds of his robes, something specially brought for mortal lands. Holding out the coins to the hobbit, he asks, “May we take them all?”

The woman’s eyes go wide at the gold, and she hurriedly snatches it out of Elrond’s palm, clearly no longer caring about his race so long as his money’s good. She gestures vaguely at the pen and mutters, “Yes, take ‘em, take ‘em! They’ll be good bacon ‘come morning!”

Lindir blinks, repeating curiously, “Bacon?”

Elrond is quick to change the subject. He lifts the smallest piglet back into Lindir’s arms, then calls the rest of his party over, bidding each elf take one pig. Then they carry on up the lane before Lindir can become enamoured with any other ill-fated treasures.


End file.
